


A Hasty Conviction

by Enchantedtalisman



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age 2
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff, Intact Penis, Lots of Emotional Conversations, M/M, Minor Character Death, Powerful Hawke, Self-Indulgent, Time Travel, small amounts of smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-01-09 18:29:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12282081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantedtalisman/pseuds/Enchantedtalisman
Summary: Hawke couldn't see this, couldn't see this destroyed and breaking Kirkwall and leave it be. Fenris wasn't going to leave him behind, or be left behind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Totally indulgent fic about time travel Hawke because I can't find any, and I really love the idea of Hawke saving his sibling and making things better.
> 
> Fair warning, I haven't played DA2 in ages (no pun intended) and so things might not always be the same but my excuse is...time travel, ha ha.
> 
> Also fair warning, not Mother!Hawke friendly what she did and my own past experiences imply emotional/mental abuse and yeah not a fan of her, after being brutally dumped by he-who-is-an-asshole, this isn't totally Da2-Anders friendly, because I'm not _still_ bitter that my almost-husband decided to DESTROY THE CHANTRY and I even offered to fuckin' help him the fuckin'....-grumbles-
> 
> Uh...I think that's all the notes (Sorry for the length), this is a wip so with most of my wips I can't promise constant updates or even this to be finished to be honest, apologies but mental illness my energy is always at like 1%
> 
> Enjoy! <3

The departure and arrival was nothing like any type of magic Hawke had ever felt before. For him, who had practiced all the schools of magic that he had learned before leaving Ferelden and all the schools in Kirkwall; it was a very _new_ experience.

Body and soul were squeezed through the fade, and if Hawke didn’t know that this wasn’t a dream he would _think_ it was because the fade blurred around him. Blurred around his companion.

With a _twist_ of time and space the fade tore them apart. Hawke felt a pang a deep heart-wrenching pang, but then he was falling, his body changing and his magic straining against his new form.

Hardly a second and yet longer than a month seemed to pass before he was flung from the fade.

Hawke opened his eyes and knew instantly where he was—he wanted to look, wanted to soak everything in, but he had no time for that.

Darkspawn were coming out of the woodwork towards them.

Carver, always the brat, charged in.

“Carver, Bethany, listen to your brother.” His _mother_ said, and when had he last heard her? A year or two ago at the very least.

Bethany’s staff was at the ready but she was hesitating.

Years of experience let Hawke slide in and slash down a burst of frost destroying several Darkspawn.

Carver was barely holding up against three of them.

“ _Carver, Move.”_ Hawke yelled, and for _once_ for once Carver listened. A surge of _Haste_ , a tug of power from the fade to speed his body, and glowing green energy around him, and Hawke slammed the but of his staff against the first Darkspawns head, the second cleaved through with his staff-blade. The third was kicked into a rock wall. Any other time Hawke might have dazed the beast but with _Haste_ the speed at which he kicked caved in the beasts ribs and gave them a slow death.

“That was amazing, Hawke.” Bethany said breathlessly. There were tears at the edges of her eyes, and it was _so hard_ to look at her even seven years later but Hawke wasn’t about to let his fears and emotional baggage destroy his family again.

So, with no thought, just how Hawke liked it truthfully, Hawke spun around and took the few steps towards her and hugged her tight. “Bethany.”

“Brother?” Bethany asked, worry evident in her voice, but easily hugging him. Out of the twins, Bethany was always the most likely to be tactile.

“How did you do that?” A hint of jealousy and suspicion, Carver was always a pain, but right now Hawke would take it.

“Extra studying.” The lie fell easily from Hawke’s lips and when all three family members gave him a _look_ , he shrugged, “I didn’t _want_ to bring it up,” He glanced warily at his mother. His mother who he had all sorts of mixed feelings for; mostly apathy at this point (Aveline and the others had quite unwavering about how bad of a mother she had been, especially when...well Hawke had a reason to avoid drinking now, Isabelle’s threats to eviscerate him being one of those things), “But father’s journals, he gave me a key to a chest for when I got older. I’ve been studying them.” He glanced at Bethany and was mildly relieved that she didn’t seem to be aware of the lie.

There _had_ been a journal, several in-fact locked into a chest, but Hawke in his anger at losing his Father had...burned them. So he honestly _didn’t_ know if those journals had spells like haste or advanced staff-training.

Either way the three nodded even if Carver looked sulky.

Hawke took the lead, his mabari coming out from an outcropping of rocks, “Did you hide like a good boy?” Hawke asked, and ignored the way Carver huffed about _actually using that dog for something useful._

Arc, the mabari, huffed and Hawke gave him a pat before continuing.

It took them far longer than Hawke would like to reach the path where Aveline was. Even with his experience in destroying Darkspawn, the trek wasn’t meant for four people who had never traveled before.

Hawke had already noticed that his body was not _his_ body, it was his body from before Kirkwall. (He hoped, briefly, that he hadn’t stolen his past self’s body but he was unsure, the spell didn’t exactly have many details after all time magic had never been a realistic endeavor)

When Aveline appeared in the distance, holding her...husband? Lover? Hawke couldn’t remember, Hawke was the one to charge in.

“Brother!” Bethany yelled, a _Winters Grasp_ ripping through one of the darkspawn closing in on Hawke.

Hawke laughed and easily threw a _Fireball_ at a darkspawn ahead of him. The darkspawn to his right fell to Carver.

“Don’t just charge in!” Carver growled, slicing into the darkspawn with his greatsword.

“Whatever you say, brother.” Hawke said sweetly, and then twirled dodging a sword from the little gremlins and sent a _Winters Grasp_ at the closest to Aveline’s husband. The man’s name was evading Hawke, and there were far more important things then a man’s name right now.

Hawke, with seven years of experience under his belt, sent four _Spirit Bolts_ at a Hurlock so rapidly that the darkspawn couldn’t keep up and brutally crushed under the force of the bolts.

Seconds later Hawke was easing back and looking at Aveline’s sword.

“You and your sister are Apostates.” Aveline said evenly.

Bethany, the foolish brat, moved in front of Hawke, “You won’t hurt my brother.” She said evenly, and Hawke wondered what had he changed so far to make his sister so confrontational already. She had never been so before...he grimaced and glanced at the man—Ser Wesley.

Ser Wesley who Hawke could clearly see was infected.

“Well that is true.” Aveline’s voice cut through Hawke’s thoughts.

“Hmm?” Hawke looked at Aveline and didn’t even try to bite down the smirk at her vexed expression.

“Brother.” Bethany sighed, but her eyes were shining with mirth.

“Aveline and Ser Wesley were just affording us the chance of you and Bethany not dying. But, of course, I was in favor of our brother having a few blade wounds.” Carver said, his narrowed eyes at Hawke.

Hawke snorted and ignored his mother and Bethany berating Carver, and nodded at the two. “Will you accompany us? We’re trying to get to Kirkwall.”

Aveline glanced at Carver then at Hawke, her eyes questioning but she closed her mouth and nodded at Hawke, “Like your...brother-” She grimaced.

“Carver is my brother, and even when he may _seem_ like he dislikes me, I know he has a place in my heart.” It was _extremely_ corny, and if Hawke wasn’t looking and talking to an Aveline (even if it wasn’t _his_ Aveline) he probably would have never voiced it.

From the complete silence form his family he knew they were stunned.

Aveline smiled, a softening expression on her face, “I suppose I can understand.”

Hawke was sure she didn’t, not really (not this Aveline who had spent weeks, months, and years with Merrill as a little sister and Isabella as...well, Isabella, and all the rest), but he nodded and waved at the path, “Let us continue?” His gaze slid across his family.

Mother looked ready to cry.

Carver was flushing a brilliant red that Hawke wished Varric could see.

Bethany was smiling, and gripping her staff tightly. “Thank you.” She mouthed.

Blood rushed to Hawke’s cheeks and he turned quickly before anyone could notice. He really needed to stop conflating who was around him. Next he would find Varric and start talking about something that hadn’t happened yet to give the man a story. At least Fenris was somewhere out there, he was sure his partner would no doubt be destroying his master and anyone who got in his way before finding Hawke.

Hawke hoped he could just find Fenris before the man actually did find everyone. He didn’t really _want_ to see what would happen if Fenris found Anders before Hawke.

 

More darkspawn came across their path that they dispatched with ease, and Hawke tried to curb his use of spells but it was practically instinct to use all of his arsenal. Only the burning inside of him that said he was using too much mana stopped him from using his more powerful spells. Obviously this body wasn’t prepared for things like _Firestorm_ or _Tempest_.

It was much harder _not_ to use blood magic—while it hadn’t felt addicting in the last seven years he could only imagine what the others would say. With all of his wounds though it was desperately tempting except if something serious _did_ happen it would be that much harder to heal any wounds used for blood magic.

Hawke shook himself and finished off the last darkspawn. He grimaced when he heard Aveline gently set Ser Wesley down.

“I’m dying, Aveline.”

Hawke tried to ignore the rest of their argument but couldn’t, not while he was also walking up to them and kneeling beside Ser Wesley. He glanced at Aveline, “I can’t heal Darkspawn taint, not without making him a Warden,” He quickly continued before he could bring her hopes up, “And I do not have the materials needed for the ritual, but I can stop the pain, heal what I can so you have time...” He wished he could do more. He wished the spell had let him take supplies back.

Aveline glanced at him then at her husband, tears at the edge of her eyes, “Please.” She said.

Ser Wesley coughed blood but smiled grimly at Hawke, “Thank you.”

Hawke nodded before raising his hands.

Actually using his Spirit Healing in a body that hadn’t before was stretching him. Hawke had to remember how, how the first time he opened the fade and called out, silently, asking for help.

Spirits of Faith and Wisdom and Hope beckoned to his call and his eyes glowed blue. His hands shimmered, and the wounds that he could heal he did. The nerves and pain receptors he carefully turned off.

Time passed slowly as the mana burned through Hawke, and he wasn’t sure how long he could hold it and was guiltily relieved when Ser Wesley’s eyes closed.

When Hawke could breathe without panting, he looked at Aveline, “I’m sorry.” He glanced at the still body.

Aveline huffed and looked at Hawke, finally catching his gaze after a few long seconds, “There is nothing to be sorry for Hawke. You tried.” Her voice was hoarse from emotion and over-use.

“If we’d been sooner.” Hawke muttered, but Aveline must have heard him and cuffed his shoulder.

“If you start thinking like that the guilt will eat you up, trust me I _know_.” Aveline rubbed at her eyes and huffed, “Thank you for trying, it is what it is.” She took a deep breath then smiled, “At least your healing gave him a few moments and no pain in the end. Thank you.”

Hawke nodded, the guilt sitting heavy, if he had moved faster maybe—but it was too late to worry about. Aveline had forgiven him and he was sure _his_ Aveline from the future would have too. The spell was untested and he was in a body that wasn’t quite trained yet.

 _Hawke you have a tendency to forget that you’re human. Th_ _at_ _bloody Champion title doesn’t help. Remember, you’re a man, and no matter if you fail, the fact that you_ are _trying is what’s important_.

Hawke shook his head and then indicated the road. “Let’s go before we lose more time to wet works.” He said slyly.

Aveline, almost naturally, rolled her eyes and cuffed his shoulder again, “Alright, I suppose you’re leading us?” She said with a wicked grin.

Before, the first time, Hawke had balked, but this time he winked at her and started forward.

Bethany and Carver on one side.

His mother and Aveline on the other.

 

They camped several yards before the area where the Ogre would show, it made Hawke paranoid but the spells, the travel through the fade, and Spirit Healing had made it obvious he was barely standing.

Even his mother, not much of a fighter, noticed.

“Rest Hawke, I will take first watch.” Aveline said, frowning at him, “You should have told me it would tax you.”

More guilt that was hard to turn, _Maker I wish Fenris was here_ , “It was the least I could do.” Hawke said.

Aveline sighed, a small smile on her lips before she nodded and turned back to the campfire.

Bethany settled next to Hawke, resting her head against his shoulder like when they were children. It left him oddly nostalgic, and had his heart and grief surging forth. “I know you didn’t know how to cast healing spells at home.” She whispers, her eyes going from his eyes to his other facial features and back again as if looking for something--

 _Possession_ , Hawke thought with no little amusement.

“And you forgave Carver so easily, you were even sweet to him.” Bethany said this with equal parts hope and fear in her voice.

“I _can_ grow up you know.” Hawke patted her hair, and because he could, kissed her forehead.

Bethany grumbled, “But...tell me the truth. Are you, I’ve heard Spirit Healers can be possessed and not change.”

Where she had heard that, Hawke was unsure but he held out his hand. “Feel my magic and connection to the fade.” Which, was still a little frayed at the edges but Bethany, as good of a self-taught mage as she was, shouldn’t notice. Not with her current training at least.

Eagerly Bethany took his hand and concentrated. Mana pooled between their joined hands and traveled up through Hawke’s arm.

It felt odd, no one had done this to him since Anders was their healer and the first time and last time Fenris found out he could years ago.

The mana instead of arcing into his chest slid into the place that’s not quite physical and not quite organ that linked a mage more securely to the fade then others.

Bethany didn’t let go of Hawke’s hand or the connection for a long time.

Long enough that Arc, Hawke’s Mabari, climbed into Hawke’s lap and fell asleep.

Hawke drifted himself, mind keeping a close watch on Bethany’s magic next to his fade connection but otherwise taking the rest that he could. He _was_ very tired and needed his strength for tomorrow; he carefully tightened his arm around Bethany.

No one would die tomorrow. He would make sure of it.

Finally, Bethany pulled back and sighed, “I’m glad, I didn’t realize you studied so hard that you could...” She trailed off and ducked her head, “I suppose Carver and I assumed quite a bit about you brother.”

Hawke snorted and kissed her hair again, “Sleep, I need my rest. And you know I didn’t _always_ flirt with the chantry men.”

“Or Templars.” Bethany grumbled with a resigned air.

 _Those were good times,_ Hawke thought before laying down properly and falling into a light sleep.

 

Waking was surprisingly easy, perhaps because there were so many dreams. Some good, others he would kill to forget, but no demons.

Hawke wasn’t sure if that was something that had happened before or not—all he remembers are the nightmares, so instead he started the campfire (saving his mana and doing it the way Merrill and Varric taught him), and pulled out the food that they had retrieve from home before leaving.

While separating it into several portions he thought of what they needed to do.

Money, handling the Ogre (he grimaced and glanced at his sleeping family, Aveline included, he wouldn’t let them die it was practically a mantra by now), and finding Fenris.

No, finding Fenris was the most important thing in Hawkes mind after the Ogre. It was silly, and probably dangerous, but he needed his partner back. Needed someone to know this wasn’t some horrid Demon’s trap.

After all it _had_ happened before; even if he had had the willpower to break from it.

The others woke slowly, and Hawke didn’t reprimand Carver for falling asleep during his shift. He had come from Ostagar and kept running, really Hawke should have taken the last watch.

Full of food, though not _full_ , Hawke packed his blanket and pillow, and scanned the area.

No Darkspawn, not yet, but...He breathed, soon. He widened his connection to the fade already pulling mana. He would be ready.

Their trek was stopped by a hoard of new darkspawn.

“Everyone ready, Bethany stay near mother. Carver keep close to Aveline.” Hawke ordered, and was relieved when they followed his commands.

Then, then Hawke slipped into Haste, tugging the mana and weaving it over his family.

Aveline fell into it with ease which surprised Hawke, he wondered, but had no real time to figure it out.

Carver took longer to smooth his motions and learn to regulate his speed.

Bethany with her so far away from the fighting at least had an easier time of it.

Genlocks fell to Hawke’s blade, and he swept his staff in an arc _Cone of Cold_ racing across the Hurlocks in front of him and freezing the ones that survived the initial blast.

Darkspawn blood spilled across the ground, this was _easy_ , even though his body ached unused to the moves and the mana running through him; he had the experience. It was all in his head.

The darkspawn fell until only a deep rumbling from the earth remained.

“What’s that sound?” Aveline was the first to notice, a true warrior down to the bone.

Before anyone could answer, an Ogre appeared, and instead of heading straight to Bethany it roared and leapt towards Carver.

“Carver!” Bethany yelled, barely stopped from rushing into the battle by her mother’s hands. Her staff glowing fiercely with crackling magic.

Hawke heart raced, and it took all his control not to panic. He rushed forward, mana gathering and with a roar sent a rush of _Spirit Bolts_ and _Stone fists_ at the Ogre.

Dozens of them, slammed into the Ogre pushing them back and falling with a screech that was deafening.

Hawke glanced at Carver with relief before spinning his staff and sending a _Fireball_ on the Ogre.

The smell of cooked flesh and smoke filled the air and Hawke leaned against his staff.

“Good reflexes, Hawke.” Aveline said, a grim smile on her lips and relief shining in her eyes.

“I could have handled it.” Carver choked but he was still standing, rooted to the spot, only three feet away from the Ogre’s dead corpse.

 

The Dragon, Flemeth Hawke knew, wasn’t all that surprising but it was a relief, he was tiring and even before him Carver and Bethany had fallen back.

Aveline, well, Aveline had that determined glint in her eyes as if to say _I will not fall here_.

Still, when Hawke placed his staff against the ground, leaned on it, and looked back. All of them were alive, and it made something lurch inside of Hawke. He could barely contain the sudden emotion and he looked away before he started doing something awful like _cry_.

Then Flemeth caught his gaze and with a look Hawke was walking towards her. “When I said you were at a Precipice for Change I did not think you would take it quite so...literally.” She chortled and glanced at him, “Do be careful, Champion, there are only so many times one can be a Precipice before the world crumbles underneath them.”

“Still won’t teach me that Dragon trick?” Hawke offered with a shaky smile, promising himself silently that he wouldn’t need the world to crumble under him—after all it had already done so last time.

Flemeth cackled.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to post this a bit early since I wanted to write more but if I wrote more the cut off for this chapter would be much later.
> 
> Also, incase anyone hasn't read my a/n's on my other stories I don't really consider myself Trans (maybe genderfluid or maybe nb some days but not Trans) but I _always_ try to be respectful to my queer-fam, and I tried to make what Carver said as respectful as possible. Also because I'm queer and I'm gonna add as much queer shit to my writing as possible tbqh.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! <3

Flemeth once again agreed to take them to a port city, “After all, if I don’t your story will end and where would this story be without it’s Champion?” She cackled again.

Hawke almost laughed himself but the wary and concerned looks from Aveline and Carver kept him from full blown laughter. They didn’t understand all of Flemeth’s little insinuations but it probably meant something that Hawke thought of them as only funny rather than terrifying.

When they finally landed in Kirkwall; Flemeth’s necklace tightly in hand again, Hawke couldn’t help looking around.

Of course Fenris wasn’t there, not in the shadows, not behind the steps that the Guards blocked into the City, and not in the Alleys.

Hawke hated how much that worried him.

His Uncle, what was the poor saps name….Hawke barely remembered the man, other than his revulsion of him... _Gamlen_ , right, he only wished he could go back to forgetting him entirely.

“Gamlen, I hoped to see you--” Leandra said, using Leandra’s first name sounded much better in Hawke’s head then the title of mother, walked towards him with hope in her eyes.

Hawke sighed and ignored the byplay. He hadn’t though about the guards bribe, it had seemed such a small thing seven years into the future, and now they would have to spend a year with either mercenaries or smugglers.

At least the smugglers didn’t necessarily kill anyone. Hawke could deal with that again, and he would have to figure out what to do after that.

The Darkroads were not something Hawke wanted to experience again. Not with that damn lyrium idol around.

Though leaving the idol down there also made Hawke wary, what if someone else found it? Or if he didn’t go and Varric was left down there without Hawke...No, this would need some thought.

“A year of servitude, really?” Bethany’s icy tone pulled Hawke out of his thoughts.

Hawke barely bit back a snort, “What do you know about the smuggler?” He said, because he truly did want to finish this. This was just another step to get into the city and one he wanted to finish as soon as possible.

Damn that spell for not letting Hawke take anything back, he practically had a King’s Ransom back..well, not _home_ it hadn’t been home after the Chantry’s explosion, but back in the future.

Gamlen blinked and frowned at Hawke, “The older one? You practically look like a clone of your no-good father--”

“Gamlen, really.” Leandra said sharply.

“Quite a man, your Uncle.” Aveline muttered too low for the others to hear.

Hawke snorted and nodded, “Wait until you learn about the gambling and drinking.”

Aveline raised a brow, “You mean it’s worse then what the guard said?”

Hawke grimaced, “Far worse.” Then turned back to Gamlen who was _still_ bickering with Leandra; they were worse then Carver and Hawke had been last time around, “The Smuggler, Uncle?”

The arguing stopped, and they turned to Hawke.

“Athenril, she’s a small time smuggler, she’s down west from here, go speak to her.” Gamlen nodded his head. “She’ll pay off the entrance fee.”

“Entrance fee, you didn’t answer me, what happened to our Estate?” Leandra hissed.

Hawke groaned and beckoned the others down the steps.

“Smuggling, Hawke?” Aveline asked with a frown, “I’m not quite sure I agree with that.”

“The other choice is being a mercenary and while I have no problem killing for coin, I didn’t want to subjugate you three to that. Do you want to try the mercenary instead?” Hawke stopped and glanced back.

Bethany grimaced and crossed her arms, “I would prefer _not_ to kill anyone. Even if it’s...less then legal,” She glanced around to make sure the Guards weren’t nearby, “It’s better than having blood on my hands.”

Carver scuffed, “Mercenary work is at least above board-”

“If the Mercenary work is done within the law,” Aveline cut in, “But we don’t know either of the two well enough to say who is better.” She glanced back at Hawke, “I’m behind you on this, I won’t let you pay my way in--”

Hawke closed his open mouth because he _was_ just about to say that, and wondered how easily Aveline could read him.

“--so I’ll join you, perhaps we can find better work once the year is done.” Aveline shook her head, “But that’s a future problem.”

“Good, Carver?” Hawke asked, because he _knew_ the boy, not quite a man yet (not really), had issues with his authority.

“What are you asking me for? If the others said fine, fine.” Carver huffed.

With a snort, Hawke led them to the smuggler, and once again Aveline was kind enough to make the merchant, who was holding out on Athenril’s cut, flee in terror.

Athenril took the money with a gleam in her eyes and a nod at the group. “Well done.” Then she and her...guards, disappeared into another alley.

“Looks like we’ve finally made it.” Aveline said fingers rubbing against the pommel of Ser Wesley’s sword—the only thing she had kept from him as far as Hawke knew.

“Things will get better.” Hawke told her, wishing that he could hug her. But from past experience he knew this Aveline wouldn’t want a hug, wouldn’t want condolences.

“We’ll make it better.” Bethany said with spirit.

Hawke nodded and suppressed his mirth at another huff from Carver. His brother would learn, eventually, if he didn’t Hawke was sure that the others would beat the jealousy out of him.

 

 

Hawke was relieved when he slipped into the city—well, Lowtown, but it was part of Kirkwall.

Part of Kirkwall that was just above where Anders worked—or would? When had Anders started…Well, he could find out later, when his family wasn’t so alert and likely to notice him disappearing.

Hopefully Fenris hadn’t already gone to Darktown, Hawke really didn’t want Anders to die—not if he could stop the Chantry from being destroyed at least. The only way he knew how to do that was to separate Anders and Justice, or well...perhaps kill Justice. Fenris was rather fond of that idea, but he was also fond of just killing Anders in general, so Hawke took that plan with a grain of salt.

But that made Hawke wonder...Anders had had quite a business because of being a Spirit Healer, and Hawke was a Spirit Healer. Except, right now he couldn’t possibly openly heal people outside of Darktown (and he would rather _not_ spend his days down there, he didn’t know how Anders did it). He would have to--

“There’s two rooms, Leandra you can take the one with me. The children can take the other.” Gamlen grumbled, and then promptly grabbed a half empty bottle of whiskey and slipped into one of the rooms.

Leandra scowled and followed him into the room, the door slamming harshly behind her.

“Well, this is a lovely place.” Aveline’s fingers ran across a small table before grimacing and rubbing her hand across her armor. “Disgusting.” She muttered.

Carver was the one to open “their” bedroom, and frowned fiercely.

Bethany peaked in, leaning heavily on Carver’s back.

“I don’t think-” Bethany and Carver started together before glaring at eachother.

Hawke raised his brows, a smile forming on his lips (Maker how he missed the twins together this was what he had come back for), but already knew what it looked like. If his memory served him right it was a long room without any separation to the beds—if you could call the pallets on the floor beds.

“We can’t all sleep in here, what if we need to change?” Carver muttered, blushing and eyes unable to avoid where Aveline was standing next to a stack of papers.

Aveline looked up from her inspection of...Gamlen’s mail and tilted her head, “The Army didn’t change together? I know we were not so prudish in my division...”

Carver ducked his head and shrugged, “We were separated by our gender…A man with different body parts is much different then changing with a woman, because that man is still a man.”

Aveline snorted, “Well whenever either of you wants to change you can kick everyone out, how does that sound?”

Carver and Bethany nodded, relief easing their shoulders and tense expressions. They quickly entered the bedroom and the door closed behind them with a maker-awful-creak.

Hawke grinned, “Going easy on them, Aveline?”

Aveline rolled her eyes, “As if we need more strife within your family, Hawke. Now, I’m going to change and head to bed. Maybe start searching for some above board work, tomorrow. I can’t rely on all of you forever.” She walked towards the room.

“Aveline.” Hawke said, causing Aveline to pause right at the bedroom door, “You are family now, you can rely on me, on _our_ family.”

Aveline glanced back and raised a brow, “We’ve known eachother for a week or so Hawke--”

“Does it matter? We survived the edges of a Blight and spent a week on an awful boat ride, I think that gives us the right to have a close bond, but,” Hawke paused and twisted his fingers together, he really needed to stop showing affection so easily. Everyone else barely knew eachother but Hawke knew all of them inside and out—even Bethany was easy to read this early on. Except, he couldn’t _stop_ because they were family even if they didn’t realize it yet, “but if it makes you uncomfortable I suppose I can let you spread your wings.”

Aveline snorted and shook her head, “You’re an odd one Hawke, but alright.” She rubbed a gloved hand discreetly against her face, “I suppose I could do with some family.” Abruptly she opened the bedroom door and slipped inside.

Emotions were never the groups strong point, well the more _gentle_ emotions, so Hawke tried not to sigh in disappointment. At least Aveline had accepted help, even a year after their involvement last time she had refused to discuss personal matters for a long while.

Since everyone was safely inside their rooms, Hawke picked up his staff from beside the door and opened the door leading outside. He glanced at Arc who had fallen asleep immediately when they ha entered the house, glanced at the two closed doors, and then went outside. “Now, if I was an escaped slave with a high chance of angers issues where would I be.” Hawke muttered.

Darktown first, Hawke might as well check out the bottom to the top. He only wished they had planned for this a little better—they had been so sure in Hawke’s adjustments to the spell to keep them both in the same space. Hawke should have known his luck wouldn’t allow them even that comfort of eachother.

With a sigh Hawke started down the steps and started searching for his partner.

 

Two weeks went by without any sign of Fenris and the longer they were separated the more irritated Hawke became.

Thankfully, Hawke had enough control to not piss off the others but Carver was getting close to making Hawke put him over his knee. Had his brother _always_ been so antagonistic? Was the Templar-Carver actually better? He couldn’t remember but he was very annoyed and worried for his mental state. Actively wanting Templar-Carver back was like asking for a nightmare.

“Bethany, perhaps you should buy some food with Carver.” Aveline said at the end of their day.

The smuggling jobs were coming through fast as if Athenril wanted to get as much out of the four as soon and as quickly as possible. This one had been relatively easy, retrieving a new lyrium shipment from the docks without the guards notice, and Hawke had haggled Athenril for a better days wages. (He knew how rare and precious lyrium was and he wasn’t going to get caught with it as a mage (with a mage sister) and in a Templar dominated city; he wasn’t suicidal)

Bethany glanced at Hawke with a look that spoke of understanding and then nodded, “Alright, come on Carver, maybe we can find you a pretty girl, or boy, or person.” She graciously took the pouch of coins Aveline handed her and tugged Carver’s arm pulling him along.

“Bethany.” Carver ground his teeth so hard it was audible. “I do not...”

Both of them walked through the streets with looks and body language that spoke more then their actual words did.

“Hawke.” Aveline said when the twins were out of earshot.

Hawke hummed, he could feel a lecture coming on.

The stance; Aveline’s feet spread the width of her shoulder’s, her lips slightly turned down, and her eyes sharp as if looking for a weak point. “You haven’t been well, and it’s a bit worrying.”

“Worrying? Really?” That was a surprise and any other day Hawke would have taken it a bit better. Wouldn’t have come out slightly sarcastic and bitter.

Aveline’s eyebrows raised and her eyes narrowed, “If you think for one second Hawke you can call us a Family and then turn around and not expect me to worry,” She inhaled sharply and exhaled, “Hawke, you keep leaving at night and disappearing, and even _Carver_ is worried about you. You get so angry you’ve started to spark flames whenever he annoys you. But I can’t even tell half the time because you just seem to tightly leash it. Your emotions aren’t inanimate objects that you can stowaway Hawke. You will eventually blow.”

Hawke grimaced, how was Aveline right and able to give him a lecture after only a few weeks of companionship was beyond him. “You’re right.”

A pause, and then Aveline crossed her arms, her stance suddenly shifting. She coughed, “Of course I am.”

Laughter bubbled up inside of Hawke and he covered his mouth trying to stifle his amusement.

“Hawke.” Aveline grumbled, her glare potent as ever.

“Just, of course you are Aveline.” Hawke teased before straightening and then sighing. He couldn’t tell her the truth, not yet, this Aveline wouldn’t understand this level of magic.

Maybe she would understand the stakes but she wouldn’t listen long enough for Hawke to explain it, he was sure of that. “There’s someone I’m looking for. A...” Friend, lover, husband (if Fenris heard the last one he might run for the hills), but Hawke couldn’t say that, “friend. I met him here and he hasn’t shown up. I’m worried.” There, not a _total_ lie, but Maker if only he had seen a glimpse of Fenris on the first day. That would have eased his fretting mind.

“They live in Lowtown?” Aveline asked, “Are you—of course you are, there aren’t exactly stellar people in Kirkwall, are there?” She sighed and started walking.

Hawke needed only two steps to keep up with her, “There are a few,” He said with a small smile, though Aveline probably wouldn’t feel that way about Merrill or Sebastian. “And yes...where are we going?”

“Well, you said they are missing right? I’m going to help you look.” Aveline said firmly.

There was no way Hawke could protest that and with a resigned sigh, he nodded.

Aveline snorted and lowly muttered about, _Loners and bad enough that he told me to ask for help but…_ Before her grumbles were too low to hear.

Perhaps she was right, Fenris was a sore subject but, she was offering to help. Hawke desperately needed it too.

_You better be alive somewhere in this bloody town Fenris._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Review/Kudos if you liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read this chapter at least five different times and I was debating waiting a little longer before posting (just so I can get chapter 4 done with before I post this one, but...I'm an impatient asshole).
> 
> Also, just to be safe I'm changing the rating from T to M, possibly E in the future depending.

By midnight Hawke had lost hope of finding Fenris today. He slowed to a stop near the entrance to Hightown and rubbed a hand across his face. He knew logically that Fenris could handle himself—and after seven years of fighting and adventuring the elf wasn’t likely to lose against Danarius. Still, Hawke couldn’t help the cold fear that gripped his chest.

There was a heavy ache and exhaustion that ate at him every day he failed to find Fenris.

“We should head back, Hawke. You know how the streets get.” Aveline said, not unkindly. Her eyes had rarely strayed from the streets but every once in a while Hawke would see her glance at him.

“Probably.” Hawke muttered but he couldn’t help taking a few steps closer to the edge of Lowtown.

There was nothing in the shadows or the small thin alleys that lead back into Lowtown. Not even a glint of blue-lyrium scars.

“Looking for someone, Hawke?” A voice called.

Hawke froze, and he heard the sound of Aveline’s blade being drawn.

“Who are you?” Aveline called.

“Fenris,” Hawke said quickly turning and there on one of the high walls that split Hightown and Lowtown was the elf.

“It has been quite some time, Hawke.” Said casually, but Hawke could see Fenris’ eyes and they looked just as relieved as Hawke felt.

“Your friend?” Aveline hesitated before putting away her blade.

“Yes.” Hawke said, and he _really_ hoped his voice wasn’t shaking.

“I’m glad you found him.” Aveline nodded and glanced up at Fenris, clearly she wasn’t leaving until she was sure he was not a danger to Hawke.

Hawke tried to bite down on his amusement.

Fenris with far more agility and grace than Hawke could do in this body just yet, slid down the wall and landed on his feet with ease. “I am surprised that you’re still alive.” He took several steps arms already rising towards Hawke before pausing and glancing at Aveline.

Hawke had forgotten how shy Fenris was with public affection, and he knew that even the gruff tones were meant as a _I’m glad you’re alive_. “What a blow to my esteem.” His tone was dry and his lips twitched in fondness.

“You have the oddest family and friends, Hawke.” Aveline muttered, she leaned against a nearby wall and raised her brows when Fenris stared at her, “I’m not leaving him alone with a stranger.”

A snort from Fenris, before he moved a step or two closer to Hawke. Any closer and it would scream inappropriate, “I had some affairs to deal with.” He said lowly.

Affairs, which likely meant Danarius.

“Are they?” Hawke whispered, he wouldn’t stand for Danarius again. He was sure he could find a way to track the bastard down. Perhaps a localized blood spell…

“Hawke.” Fenris called Hawke back from his thoughts, and Fenris shook his head, “Danarius is done for. His slaves sent to the Alienage.”

Hawke’s eyes widened in surprise, “All of them?”

Fenris shrugged, “He came here with an assortment of slaves and servants. Cocky Magisters...” He grumbled.

“Slavers, here?” Aveline cut in, looking grim, “I can see why Hawke was worried.”

A light flush covered Fenris’ face hard to see against his dark skin, “It was fine A-...what is your name?”

This time it was much harder for Hawke to hold in his amusement. He was sure Fenris had just stumbled and remembered this Aveline hadn’t introduced herself yet.

“Aveline Vallen, Fenris right?” Aveline looked him up and down then offered a hand.

Fenris paused before taking it in his own, “Yes, Fenris. Hawke’s friend, I’ve heard you’re good with a blade. Perhaps we can spar some time.”

“That would be interesting.” Aveline polite smile turned into a grin.

“Letting you two meet was possibly a bad call on my part.” Hawke said but the two warriors ignored him. He sighed, but couldn’t help the warmth in his bones, in his heart.

Fenris was back, and other than the scars that looked far fresher than last time he was whole and unbroken.

When they had to part for the night, Hawke couldn’t help himself, he wrapped an arm around Fenris’ waist to stop him.

“Hawke?” Fenris raised his brows, “I think--”

Hawke kissed him before the man could continue.

Immediately, Fenris kissed back, one hand wrapping around Hawke’s chin and a whimper escaping him. “Damn you Hawke,” Another kiss, “Worried me.” Fenris hissed low enough that Aveline couldn’t hear. He bit Hawke’s bottom lip sharply and it sent a thrill of pleasure and pain through Hawke.

“ _I_ worried you _,_ you worried _me_.” With one more kiss Hawke pulled back, licking his bottom lip.

“We can discuss this later, meet me here tomorrow night?” Fenris thumb rubbed across Hawke’s cheek before he took a step away.

Hawke nodded and let go of Fenris watching him disappear into the shadows. For a warrior the elf was far too good at stealthing like a rogue.

“A friend, Hawke?” Aveline asked, eyebrows raised and an amused tilt to her lips.

Hawke grinned cheerfully at her, “Quite a good friend in fact.”

Aveline snorted and shook her head, “Keep your secrets, at least you’re smiling again. I was almost worried.”

“Almost.” Hawke hummed and his grin only grew wider when Aveline rolled her eyes.

That night while Hawke missed the warmth of Fenris against his side it was far easier to fall asleep.

 

The next night was a short meeting not even more then a hand against Fenris’ hip before the elf was explaining why he had to leave. “Apparently the ex-slaves have found a comfort in my guiding hand.”

“Guiding hand, so they don’t take you as another Master.” Hawke nodded along, “Then tomorrow night it is?”

“Tomorrow, I just have to settle them. They aren’t like...” Fenris shook his head.

“Like you. You are one of a kind.” Hawke winked at Fenris.

Fenris growled and gently shoved Hawke, but pulled him back in for a quick kiss, before starting the trek back into Hightown.

Both Carver and Bethany were adamant about Hawke not leaving again the next night. He only convinced them to let him go for an hour.

“One hour, brother.” Bethany said firmly. Then she nudged Carver.

Carver sighed and glared at Hawke, “If you’re late we will drag you back home.”

Hawke chuckled but agreed. He didn’t want to try their patience if he decided to flee their wrath, and having his younger siblings out at night in Lowtown was just asking for a problem. “Alright, alright.”

 

Two nights turned into two weeks by the time that Fenris had enough breathing room from the elves in the Alienage, and Hawke wasn’t bombarded with family time.

There was a suspicion forming in the back of his mind that Aveline had somehow contrived the whole thing. If it wasn’t for the fact that she kept hinting about Hawke’s lover he wouldn’t have thought of it in the first place (even if the attention from the twins was refreshing if unnerving).

“Aveline are you really doing what I think you are?” Hawke finally asked, because he didn’t understand the sudden shift in Carver or Bethany’s behavior.

Sure, Bethany would be worried, no doubt she would have been _if_ she had noticed. Carver, though, he was rarely if ever concerned for Hawke—sometimes like the one time Hawke had frozen his own hands solid, but never like now. Aveline of course had always been a rather private person, and while more open this time around...it was odd she would be invested in the twins and Hawke.

Aveline shrugged and took a sip of water from a flask that had a Templar symbol on it, “I think they’d like to know that you have someone on your arm.” She glanced at Hawke, “And you only introduced me to him because I was there.” She raised a hand up, “Don’t lie, Hawke, you wouldn’t have said a word until you two were shacked up together. You have more secrets then I can count but I haven’t pushed. This one though. This one at least you should share with your family...” She paused.

A few people passed the crates the two of them were using to sit on. The scent of the ocean passing them by, and behind them was the sound of water splashing against stone.

Closing her flask, Aveline looked Hawke in the eye, “Unless you think your family would disapprove. Dammit, I should have asked. I just didn’t think...”

“No I’m sure they would not—well, Leandra might have a problem with him being an elf but considering she married a...” Hawke trailed off when another group of fisherman passed them by, “mage, I doubt she can say anything.”

“Damn right they won’t say anything, if he makes you happy and he isn’t using you, then they’ll have to go through me.” Aveline said fiercely.

“Oh that’s—Aveline, that’s not necessary--”

Aveline swiped the air cutting Hawke off, “It is, Hawke, you’ve done more then your fair share for this family. I know you’ve been giving me back my cut of the rent, and I’m assuming you’re doing the same with the Twins.” She cuffed his shoulder, “Don’t expect me to just let you bear the weight of the world alone.”

 _How right she was_ , Hawke thought, before nodding grudgingly. It didn’t exactly look like Aveline would put this aside. _At least Fenris will suffer with me_. _Dear maker I hope he refrains from ripping out Carver’s heart, they never did get along the first time around._

“Good.” Aveline said before finishing the rest of her bread.

The rest of their lunch was companionable if quiet; only the sound of boats and crewmen and fisherman in the background.

 

“The Elves should be fine now.” Fenris said, sitting on one of the steps leading into Hightown.

Hawke nodded and leaned a little onto Fenris, this was nice, this was something he had needed for the last two months. “I have a few ideas on what to do next.”

“A plan, Hawke? How surprising.” Fenris drawled.

Hawke smirked, “I do have those occasionally, Fenris dear.”

“Don’t call me that.” Fenris glared, scars turning from white to a whitish-blue.

Hawke grinned at him cheerfully, “Do I get a kiss if I stop?”

A glance around as if the twins had followed them (which they had tried once or twice in the past two days, and Hawke had yet to actually introduce them to Fenris), and then Fenris leaned forward and kissed Hawke.

Hawke fell into it with pleasure, hand going to Fenris’ waist and a sigh escaping his lips, “By the Maker I love you.” He whispered when their traded kisses had slowed to a stop.

“I suppose you’re tolerable, and I may have a great degree of affection for you as well.” Fenris muttered, his eyes sly and his hand possessive against Hawke’s chest.

“Hmm,” Hawke didn’t bother moving away before starting on explaining his plan, “I’ll need some herbs, and a few supplies. I was going to buy them myself but I realize...” He trailed off he knew how much Danarius was a sore subject and even if it would expedite his plan (he could only buy so many glass vials and containers before putting that money to Gamlen’s debt and other necessities of the household).

“You need the supplies from his labs. I can get them for you. I am not the scarred elf you once found.” Faintly Fenris’ lips twitched upwards.

“Finally learning a thing or two about humor. I knew I was rubbing off on you.” Hawke waggled his eyebrows.

Fenris rolled his eyes and then pushed Hawke onto the wide flat surface of the steps, “How about you remind me all about it, before your guard shows up.”

The reminder of Aveline made Hawke lose some enthusiasm but being spread out under Fenris was something Hawke had missed and it only took him moments before he was once again kissing his lover.

That night ended up turning into early morning before Hawke returned home. Satisfied and sticky, and with a too large grin.

 

Smuggling wasn’t something Hawke excelled at (he did only have a year or so of experience with it) but avoiding Templars, making deals, and being quite the fighter _was_. So good in fact it made Athenril give them quite a large portion of work and cut back on their debt.

Inbetween Smuggling, discussing things with Fenris, and avoiding introducing Fenris to his family; Hawke trained his body and magic, and worked on his side projects.

There were things that needed to happen, and things that definitely _didn’t_ need to happen. With Gamlen’s debt hanging over their heads it was much harder to actually get preparations done.

But Hawke had been saving up and determined to start his plans, so in one of the entrances to Hightown—just at the edge, he rented a small hovel of a building, and started selling healing poultices and remedies. He even offered healing services (the non-magical kind for now, he really didn’t want Templars to chain him up). Major surgery without spirit healing was beyond him, but he could set simple bone breaks, clean out debris from wounds, and bandage and suture injuries.

Even Fenris was helping, grudgingly, and scouting The Hanged Man for Varric. Unfortunately, so far the elf had yet to find the dwarf, in fact it didn’t seem like the dwarf was ever around these days. It wasn’t a worry yet but Hawke had wondered the previous time why he never saw Varric there the first year. He hadn’t exactly drank often back then but he had occasionally entered The Hanged Man and never seen Varric.

At first, business was slow.

Too many people in the past few months had used the blight to sell counterfeit elixirs and potions to “Heal and save you from all ailments, even the taint itself!”

So, not many would come to his shop—a few, mostly the desperate, and though it pained him that he couldn’t heal those with more serious injuries (several men coming from Ferelden had broken arms and legs that just wouldn’t heal right without spirit healing or intense surgery that Hawke couldn’t do), he did the best he could with pain-relief potions and poultices.

But every day Hawke would open his shop; morning to night when Athenril wouldn’t have a job for them (fewer and fewer of those days as the debt had been halved she was using them as much as possible), or around evening to nightfall on the more busy days. Slowly word was spreading, very slowly considering how previous fake-healers had caused a deep suspicion in the people of Lowtown and Darktown.

Fenris, when not keeping an eye on the Hanged Man, would lay in the shadows ever watchful.

Carver had found out about the shop—somehow before Bethany, Hawke was unsure how. He opened the door loudly and spooked the poor man at the counter talking to Hawke about a poultice to heal his sores.

The man fled through the open door, almost shoving Carver aside.

Hawke sighed and looked up at his brother with a grimace, “Could you perhaps not do that? That man won’t come back up here from Darktown for _weeks_. Those sores aren’t safe to hold onto.” He closed the lid of the poultice he was showing the man and placed it back in a rack with the rest of his supply. In the corner of the rack, carved into the wood, was a small protection sigil. Unless someone was actively looking for it no one would notice the rack was protected by magic.

“Here you are, mother was worried that you’d become another Gamlen.” Carver sneered and slammed the door.

“Please don’t abuse the door, Carver. I’m only renting the building and I don’t need more of my profit to go to that demon of a woman.” Behind the counter, against the wall, next to the rack, was a long table. Long enough for Hawke to have several potions brewing and he started stirring one of the more potent healing potions. With a quick glance he noted a few more hours before they would be done.

A snort from the corner of the room drew Hawke’s eyes and he bit back his own amusement. Fenris had a little smile across his lips and he was watching Carver with interest.

Though Hawke had been avoiding this for a long time he knew the instant Carver startled at the noise that there wasn’t a choice in the matter.

“Who’s there?” Carver’s hand immediately went for his weapon.

“Normally someone introduces themselves first.” Fenris said, walking out of the shadows almost seamlessly and leaning on the counter a few feet away from Hawke.

Carver scowled then turned to Hawke, “Who is he? What’s he doing here? _Why_ is he here?”

“Your brother is rather rude, Hawke.” Fenris said. His smile turned into a smirk.

A narrow-eyed glare and grinding of teeth from Carver. “ _Brother_.”

 _No doubt enjoying pulling my brother’s leg._ Hawke sighed and stopped stirring the potion. “My...” He glanced at Fenris, but the elf made no point to contest him, “boyfriend, Fenris. He watches the shop.”

Which, Hawke didn’t mind, he left his staff at home (no need for templars to get even a hint of what he was). He didn’t leave home without two rather cheap daggers on his person, but his skill was partly at best. Isabella had tried training him but there was only so much time with what had been going on in the future-past. Even now, Fenris and Hawke didn’t have the time for Hawke to add one more skill to the list. (He was having a hard enough time keeping the shop open, smuggling, and training his body to handle spells like _Tempest_ without keeling over)

Carver froze staring at Hawke, “W-W-” He stammered and then turned his gaze to Fenris.

“It appears as if you broke your brother, Hawke. Astonishing, considering I thought he would have your same mental fortitude. Lacking as it may be.” Fenris raised his brows at the younger male.

That snapped Carver out of his stupor and he glared ferociously at Fenris, “I’m just as strong as him!”

 _Maker they’re going to kill eachother_ , Hawke sighed and was relieved when the door creaked open.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't too hard of a chapter to write ironically it was chapter five that gave me the most difficulty and why this one is so late.
> 
> But even slowly, I'm enjoying writing this.
> 
> Warning for elf-racism, I'm trying to keep anything like racism and homophobia out of the fic because it normally drains me, but in this instance (without spoiling) this made sense.
> 
> (Minor Edits for Chapter 1 & 2 but do not conflict or change the plot)

A rather old woman, walked into the shop and while her wary eyes glanced at Carver, who still had a hand on his sword, she didn’t stop or turn around. She reached the counter and looked piercingly at Hawke, “I do so hope you have some remedies that aren’t actually fake, Ferelden.”

“It depends on what ails you,” Hawke replied mildly, glad for a reprieve from Fenris and Carver.

They were still glaring at eachother but at least they were quiet.

“My grandson seems to have encountered a plant that gives him black rashes across any place he touches.” She grimaced, “They keep spreading and he started to bleed pus from the older rashes today. I _can_ _not_ lose him.”

Hawke nodded, trying not to shy away from the emotions. “Black rashes, a slow reaction...color of the pus?”

“At first it was black but then it turned brown.” She said promptly.

There weren’t many plants that caused a black rash, but there were a few poisons that could, but he doubted any Antivan Crows were poisoning little boys. “Perhaps Andraste’s Demon. It’s a rather harmless looking plant, but it caused an outbreak of rashes in several different Towns during Andraste’s time. Most Cities tend to have a crew to destroy the weed.” Hawke tapped his fingers across the several ointments he had for rashes. Something that could cure the infection and stop the spread and possibly pain relief. “I don’t have the poultice for Andraste’s Demon, not many do considering how rare it is, but this should work.” Hawke pulled out a slim container, and placed it on the counter.

Inside the oily blue texture almost glowed in the darkness.

“Hawke.” Fenris said, his voice tinged with a bit of worry.

Hawke looked up and shook his head, “Just herbs.” He said because it was obvious from the glow that the ointment _looked_ like Spirit Healing, but Hawke wasn’t foolish, he wouldn’t start healing with magic until he had more influence. He looked back up at the woman, “I can make more if you need it but the herbs are expensive to make this blend. It glows because it has trace amounts of Royal Elfroot and Dawnroot. I recommend keeping an eye on your boy so he doesn’t continue to spread the rash.”

The woman nodded and shoulders relaxing partially, “How much? You said it’s expensive I don’t have...I have...” She pulled out a purse.

“Seven silver.” Which was low cutting it by a margin, Dawnroot and Royal Elfroot were rather expensive but Hawke had a soft spot for family.

Fenris snorted.

A shrewd expression ran across the woman’s face before she put down ten silver. She then closed and took the container, “I’ll come back if it works, thank you Serah.”

“I didn’t know you knew healing brother.” Carver said, arms crossed and watching the door close.

“You seem to not know much, if I am being honest.” Fenris said.

Carver turned and glared at Fenris. “Why does my brother even know you? How—when?” He pointed at Fenris sharply, “Why?!”

After counting the silver, and placing it in a sigil-protected drawer under the counter, Hawke looked up at Carver, “He is very good in bed. You wouldn’t believe how flexible he makes me.”

Skin tinting a harsh red, Carver sputtered, and covered his ears, “Shut up! I don’t want to hear that. Oh Maker, why didn’t I let Bethany come here first.”

“Bethany knows?” Hawke frowned, he hadn’t exactly _hidden_ the store but he hadn’t thought they would find them.

“Of course, you kept losing us and we had to figure out where you were going.” Carver frown was far more sad than angry and suddenly Hawke realized he had _worried_ Carver. Not just frustrated or the normal vexation but _actually_ worried.

“Carver, I--” Hawke easily vaulted over the counter and came up to Carver, “Carver, I never meant to worry either of you--”

“I was not worried.” Carver choked out, rubbing ineffectually at his eyes with the back of his hand.

Well, Hawke felt like a right prat, and he wrapped his arms around Carver. “I am right here Carver. Nothing is wrong with me. I’m just trying to help Kirkwall and our family.”

Carver froze in Hawke’s arms and he sniffled slightly. “I said I wasn’t worried.”

Hawke sighed and patted Carver’s back, “Well then, if you _were_ worried, I am fine. Fenris has been watching the shop, and I had planned to introduce you to him eventually.” He refrained from mentioning Aveline’s aforementioned knowledge. There was no way he wanted Carver to turn this moment into more fuel for his brother-rivalry obsession.

Slowly, Carver relaxed into the hug and he pressed his face against Hawke’s shoulder. “You are such an arse, brother.” He sniffed and punched Hawke’s other shoulder, “If you tell anyone about this I will never speak to you again.”

“Of course Carver.” Hawke said, and kept a soothing motion across Carver’s back. He tilted his head at Fenris then the door.

Fenris snorted but complied, locking the front door and then once again disappearing into the shadows behind the counter.

Hawke still didn’t know how he did that, but for now he focused on his brother crying on his shoulder. “Everything is okay Carver. I am right here.” He whispered against Carver’s hair.

Carver huffed and this time his punch was weak and then he was hugging Hawke tight, “Damn you.” He whispered, “Bad enough we lost father, and I almost died. Then you had to keep disappearing at night and then in the days we weren’t busy. I cannot lose you too brother.” Of _course_ near death would cause problems.

Hawke hadn’t seen any, but perhaps he had become far too used to near death experiences that he didn’t even think to check for the signs in this new present...He closed that thought off before he could continue; no need to guilt himself. He did that enough already as it was, “You will not lose me, Carver.” Hawke promised, “You are safe.”

Long minutes passed before Carvers hitched breathing and tears stopped. His arms though refused to leave Hawke, and so Hawke kept holding him.

When an hour passed and Carver still hadn’t moved an inch Hawke carefully pulled Carver’s face away from his shoulder and sighed.

“He fell asleep.” Fenris incredulous voice made Hawke chuckle softly.

“Yes, he must have been worn out...Be gentle with him in the future please.” Hawke said.

“Riling him up with a broken moment would be unfair. And beneath me.” Fenris muttered.

Hawke smiled ruefully and then glanced at the brewing potions. This was risky but he needed those potions so with his free arm, the one not holding Carver up, tweaked _Haste_ to _Slow_ , and cast. A brilliant yellow light flung from his hand and the bubbling cauldrons froze and the flickering burners underneath swayed to a stop—the small flames flickering ever so slowly. Then he swiftly crouched and lifted Carver’s legs into a bridal carry—careful not to jostle his brother’s head.

“I will get the door.” Fenris said, locking the back door, vaulting the counter top, and gracefully passing Hawke to the front. He opened the door and raised a brow at Hawke.

“Thank you.” Hawke said, kissing Fenris’ cheek before walking through the door and out to the dying light of nightfall.

Fenris followed and it was one less thing to worry about; not having to try and carry his brother and possibly defend themselves from attacks.

The walk back to Gamlen’s house was slow and each step made Hawke wary but the quiet steps of Fenris behind him soothed his nerves.

Of course it was _Kirkwall_ and four thugs appeared out of the shadows.

Fenris slid past Hawke and slammed the butt of his Sword into one of their faces, a loud crunch of a broken nose echoing through the air.

Another raced towards Hawke no doubt because of his baggage.

Hawke spun away from the second thug and slammed his foot down towards the third thug racing towards him. Mana shot down his foot into the earth and stones erupted from the earth and slammed into the third thug freezing them in place.

The detached head of the fourth thug rolled across the ground and Hawke saw the glint of Fenris’ blade.

The Second Thug rushed Hawke again, two daggers in their grip. Hawke dodged each swipe, weaving an _Arcane Shield_ around Carver easily. He spun and kicked the bandit a shock of lightning leaving his leg and sending the second thug crumpled to the ground electrified.

“Impressive.” A heated, warm tinge to Fenris’ voice.

Hawke grinned back at him, quickly looking the man over for any blood that was the elf’s (there wasn’t), “I’m sure I can keep being impressive.” He winked.

Fenris chuckled, “I would hate to be disappointed.” He tilted his head towards Gamlen’s house.

Hawke nodded, a smile still on his lips, and carefully adjusted Carver. Perhaps it was paranoia or just the urge to feel his shield and mana over his brother but he left the _Arcane Shield_ on; it echoed protection and comfort (not that Hawke had _intended_ for his emotions to leak out into his mana) and soothed both brothers.

Fenris took the lead eyes alert, and Hawke followed ears sharp for any other thieves.

 

When they reached the house Hawke stopped Fenris from leaving with a quiet, “Wait.”

Fenris paused at the last step leading back into the streets and gazed up at Hawke, “Surely not in the middle of the night.”

Hawke grinned at him cheekily, “Weren’t you just asking to be impressed?” He readjusted Carver, sure this body was stronger than last time but Carver was no slouch in mass or muscle, “What is more unpredictable then introducing my boyfriend to my family late at night?” He said _boyfriend_ with relish. He had really missed saying that.

With a long drawn out sigh that hid Fenris’ nerves the elf walked back up the steps and put a hand on the door. “You owe me Hawke.”

“A blowjob?” Hawke raised his brows.

Fenris flushed before leaning over and pressing his forehead against Hawke’s, “As if a blowjob would suffice, or sex.”

“I feel almost insulted.” Hawke tried for a pout but he was never good at those—Merrill was a natural at them and made even Fenris feel bad with one look.

Fenris pulled back with a shake of his head, “Let’s go inside.” He pushed open the door.

“There you are--Wait, who are you?” Bethany’s voice from inside.

“Fenris, what a surprise, where is Hawke?” Aveline said.

Fenris said nothing instead, walking in with tense back muscles that only Hawke could see.

Hawke walked in after, and with a glance at the door it closed with a light _thump_.

“Carver? What happened?” Interest lost in Fenris, Bethany stumbled to Hawke with a pale face, “Is he—did he get hurt? I told him he shouldn’t have gone alone.”

Of course, that was when Leandra came out from her and Gamlen’s room and caused just an equal measure of fuss until Hawke cleared his throat loudly.

“Carver is _fine_ , just had a rough night.” Hawke ignored the skeptical gaze from Bethany and Aveline and gently pushed them away. “I’m going to set him on his cot, let him sleep. Then I’ll introduce Fenris, please don’t hassle him.” He glanced at Aveline meaningfully.

Aveline nodded sharply, already moving towards Fenris.

Fenris grimaced but let Aveline settle near his corner of the room.

Quickly Hawke passed Leandra and Bethany and ignored his Uncle’s drunken gaze. He entered the siblings and Aveline’s room and gently closed the door with another burst of telekinetic power.

Laying Carver down without waking or jostling the young man was a lot harder than Hawke would like to admit. “I should add more muscle strengthening to my training.” He muttered and let out a sigh of relief when Carver was on the cot.

Rolling his shoulders and standing up, Hawke almost forgot the arcane shield and for a wild and crazy moment part of him didn’t _want_ to undo it. Sure it was holding a reserve of his mana (constantly draining to power the shield), but the part of him that still vividly remembered Bethany’s death, Leandra’s blame and death, Carver disappearing to the Templars ranks; didn’t want to let go of the shield.

Hawke stood there staring at Carver’s peaceful form for a long time before he untangled the _Arcane Shield_. He rubbed at his eyes and cursed himself, “Stop being an idiot they’re both alive.” But the fear that he _thought_ he had overcome was lingering at the bottom of his heart and it took much too long to finally leave the room and head back to Fenris.

Fenris was grimacing which was not a good sign.

At Hawke’s entrance, Aveline looked up with relief. “Leandra your son can tell you himself, stop pestering Fenris.”

Fenris glared at Aveline then Leandra _then_ at Hawke. _This is your fault,_ or something similar was no doubt on the tip of his tongue.

Hawke winced, he could only imagine how Leandra would react to the suddenness of Fenris. She was always particularly strange about Merrill and Fenris, but before Hawke had clung too tightly too the last piece of family to call her out.

This time was different and Hawke stepped in front of Fenris, eyeing Gamlen and Leandra with a sigh.

“I hope you aren’t expecting me to accept one more waste of space into my home.” Gamlen said with a sneer.

“As if I would want to live in a place with you in it.” Fenris said before Hawke could intervene.

Gamlen’s cheeks flushed even darker, and he opened his mouth but Hawke held up his hand.

“Look, Fenris has his own place, but your insinuation was out of line. _I_ am the one who pays for this deplorable building and am also the one who is paying off your debt. If I wanted to bring the whole of Kirkwall into this house I would have every right, Uncle.” Hawke glared, “Understood?”

Gamlen scowled but closed his mouth, taking a swing of his whiskey and walking back into his bedroom and slamming the door.

“Petulant for an adult.” Bethany muttered and then glanced at Hawke, “I knew you weren’t using Carver’s or my gold for the rent.”

Hawke smiled at her and shrugged, the waves of aggression leaving his shoulders, but he was still tense.

Leandra hadn’t stopped staring at Fenris even through Hawke’s rant. “Who is he?” She finally said, twisting her fingers together. “Aveline wouldn’t tell us but she clearly knows him. Not that I blame you of course Aveline.”

Aveline raised a brow but said nothing.

“He is...” Hawke bit back a grimace because he didn’t want Fenris to think that he didn’t appreciate the man. He did, desperately, and having Fenris back in his life was a balm to his soul. Which really, that’s what decided him. If he had to chose between Leandra’s disappointment and Fenris leaving he would always choose Fenris. “He is my boyfriend,” _husband_ Hawke left out because that was a discussion for another day, “He is a good man, and I met him a while back.”

“Boyfriend? You are joking. You and Aveline--” Leandra started, tone bewildered.

“Are just friends. And I’m still recovering from...” Aveline’s voice faded.

Hawke gripped her shoulder and Aveline relaxed slightly. “Aveline is practically a sister Leandra.” He squeezed Aveline’s arm gently and let go, “Fenris is my boyfriend, this isn’t a joke, I may have an amazing sense of humor-” Aveline and Fenris both snorted, “-but this I would not joke about.”

Leandra clutched her hands against her chest and stared at Hawke and Fenris, “An Elf?”

Hawke’s eyes narrowed.

“Mother!” Bethany hissed, “There is nothing wrong with elves, and that is not the issue here at all.” She turned to Hawke, “I just wish you had told me, honestly, keeping a _boyfriend_ hidden from your siblings.” She grimaced at Leandra, “You should apologize.

“Apologize? He’s an elf.” Leandra scowled. “Ruining the Amell name even further--”

“Mother there _is no_ Amell name anymore.” Bethany said, voice tired as if she had had this conversation multiple times.

“There is if your Uncle would just—and you having an affair--” Leandra started, voice rising.

“I am not an affair.” Fenris cut in, voice harsh.

Leandra gave him a glance but didn’t even respond, “--It won’t look right to the other nobles. Bad enough I married a mage, but an elf?”

Hawke scowled, “I am a Hawke, Leandra, I have _always_ been a Hawke, I’m sure father would love to see you refuting love when you eloped for love.”

A deep flush covered Leandra’s face and she stepped away from Hawke, “You can’t be serious. Malcolm would never--”

“I have to agree with Brother.” Bethany interjected, “He’s right Father would be ashamed of you.”

Tears ran across Leandra’s cheeks and she glared at the grouping before running into Gamlen’s room.

“Well.” Hawke said.

The door slammed.

“Well,” Fenris said and thankfully didn’t say _I told you so_ , “Are you alright Hawke?” His arm slipped around Hawke’s waist and the touch was soothing.

“I...” How did he feel? Hawke felt like something had crumbled but more of an expected break rather than a surprise. He had obviously been far too blind the last time around. “Was she?” He lowered his voice but Bethany and Aveline were so close that he doubted they didn’t hear.

“Before?” Fenris asked, and then nodded, lips thinning, “Yes.”

“I’m sorry Fenris.” Hawke pulled him into a hug and pressed his face against Fenris’ neck. His breath hitched. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I understood and still do.” Fenris said against Hawke’s ear and then kissed his cheek, “Do not let a silly woman who has no bearing on your future break you. You’ve fought dozens of foes and survived countless odds; this will not break you Hawke.”

Deep slow breathes, the scent of Fenris, and Hawke listened to him. Fenris was the only one who truly knew everything and it was a balm to hear those words. It still hurt, still felt like something had broken but it wasn’t a sharp aching wound. Hawke pressed his nose closer to Fenris’ neck and breathed in the scent of lyrium, elfroot, and steel. “Thank you.”

“We are partners, aren’t we? If you are to fall then so am I and if I were to fall so would you.” Fenris whispered the last part of their vows and fondness and joy filled Hawke.

“You remembered.” Hawke said a high flush across his cheeks.

“Of course.” Fenris huffed. “As if I would forget them.”

It took far longer than Hawke would like to admit to pull away from Fenris. He really needed this emotional day to end. First Carver then Leandra and then Fenris. He glanced at Bethany and Aveline warily.

Aveline just smiled at him, though it fell quickly. “I’m sorry Hawke, I should have listened to you when you said she was...unfavorable. I shouldn’t have conned the twins into looking for you.”

“I knew there was something off.” Bethany grumbled, “Aveline was so determined for us to find you.”

Hawke tried to dredge up his familiar humor but he barely held up a smile, “I understand why Aveline tried. Don’t blame yourself, Aveline. Eventually she would have found out, better now rather than later.” He sighed and waved a hand between Bethany and Fenris, “This is Fenris, Bethany. My little sister.” He couldn’t help the surge of happiness. His sister who hadn’t died this time.

“I’ve heard of you, the fledgling mage.” Fenris said.

Hawke glared at Fenris.

Fenris shrugged, “She _is_ a mage.”

Bethany chuckled and covered her mouth, “I am a mage. But I am many other things than a mage. I hope we can be friends and that you don’t feed me to the Templars.” She raised a brow wryly.

“Hardly, if I do call the Templars it will be on this man.” Fenris glanced at Hawke with a quirk of his lips.

“As if you could ever get rid of me, or want too. I always worm into your good graces.” Hawke said the cheer in his voice and humor slowly coming back.

“Like a particularly persistent parasite, yes.” Fenris’ smile grew.

“No wonder you like him, Hawke.” Aveline sighed, “Both of you are snarky tits.”

Hawke laughed and bowed, “I am quite the jester.”

In odd-sync both Aveline and Fenris rolled their eyes and then frowned at eachother.

Bethany chuckled and with a sigh sat down on one of the five rickety chairs in the room. “Sit down Fenris, tell me everything.”

Fenris sighed and muttered to Hawke, “You owe me.” Before sitting down across from Bethany.

Hawke kissed Fenris’ cheek once more, just to hear the man grumble, and then whispered, “I think I can manage two blow jobs.” Evading Fenris’ swipe he went to the small table that held a burner and a teapot and what Carver had dubbed their “poor excuse of a kitchen”.

Aveline joined him moments later, “I am still sorry. I know, I know you said you were fine with it but. I pushed a friend—a family member hard on things I fully did not understand. I will do better.” She ducked her head, “I would not want to lose you after...after...” _Wesley_ was unsaid.

 _There was something to be said about this day and it’s never ending emotional_ _surge_ , Hawke thought blandly. But this was also Aveline who was strong and kind and a bit too stubborn. Who tried her best to keep Kirkwall from falling lower than it’s knees, and always looked out for Hawke. Had, with Isabella’s help, forced him to stop drinking after all the familial death and abandonment.

So, Hawke owed her, owed his rag-tag family so much, “You won’t lose me, not from words or from action.” He nudged her gently, “I know when you push--”

“Meddle, Hawke, it was meddling.” Flushing brightly, Aveline ducked her head and pulled one of the chipped cups near her.

Hawke smiled at her, “Yes the meddling the aspect which you do all the time because you care.” He shrugged, “I would be worried if you _didn’t_ meddle.”

“Thanks, Hawke.” Aveline said dryly but she sighed and nodded, “Well, I’ll be more careful about caring.”

“You always are.” Hawke muttered.

Aveline raised a brow and a blush returned across her face but she didn’t say anything.

When four cups of tea were full Hawke and Aveline joined Fenris and Bethany at their small “Dinner” table.

Hawke settled next to Fenris and sighed when the elf wrapped his arm around his waist again. “Alright, no more emotional discussion for a week, what are we talking about?”

Bethany grinned with too much glee in her eyes, “I was just asking about when you told Fenris you loved him.”

Hawke groaned.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raised the rating because while the sex scene is shorter than most I've written n' posted, I figured it was explicit enough to you know...require that rating. (Fair warning for anyone who doesn't want to read sex, you'll be able to tell when it starts just skip about ten paragraphs or reach the next line break)
> 
> I have no excuse for the late chapter other than I didn't really know how I felt about the ending with Hawke and Fenris, and of course the ever present depression kicking my ass.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! <3

Carver woke and seemed so very wary around Hawke that it pained him.

The entire day was excruciating.

Hawke knew he could bite, that sometimes in the midst of emotional outages that he wasn’t the _best_ , especially before—the last time around. But he didn’t think he would ever be cruel about his siblings’ emotional traumas so the wariness was distressing. He didn’t even know how to fix it.

So, instead, Hawke just let it settle. He _hoped_ Carver would speak up if another imminent breakdown was near. He knew from past experiences that prodding Carver to open up would only work if he used sarcastic and sharp piques. Something he didn’t want to do to a sibling dealing with and opening up about trauma.

Bethany, at least, seemed to be just happier knowing why Hawke was always so busy. She had even insisted that part of her growing funds go to the shop. “Maybe I can help? Can you teach me Hawke?”

Because it was his little sister who hadn’t had a story or interests past the Ogre, Hawke caved. He squeezed in herbalism and theory of spirit healing, and using poultices and herbs and bandages and sutures.

Slowly.

There were just too many things on the schedule adding Bethany to his already tight days was a struggle. Hawke couldn’t deny her though, he didn’t have this chance before and he refused to let go of his siblings even by drifting and because of that he spent far more time with them.

Which, surprisingly wasn’t hard.

Carver, after his wariness and uncertainty had passed, seemed hellbent on spending every day at the shop. At least anytime Hawke wasn’t training, helping Bethany, or smuggling. Carver(and eventually Bethany (“You two aren’t going to leave me behind are you?”)), even spent time training with Hawke, which left Hawke feeling pleased; last time trying to convince Carver to spar with him was like pulling teeth. Having Bethany to trade spells with was in it’s own way freeing and Hawke missed the magical spars with Merrill or Anders. Bethany was wonderful and a talented mage just like their father but Merrill and Anders had had battle experience and specialized training that Bethany was still gaining.

The only downside was Fenris and Carver sniping at eachother whenever a customer wasn’t inside the shop, which for the first two months was quite often, or worse Fenris and Aveline gauging eachother and having low conversations in the shadows.

 

Six months in Kirkwall, three months into having an actual store, Hawke, his siblings, and Aveline were finally off the hook from the smuggling business.

“You know she used you more than she should have.” Aveline grumbled when they walked away from Athenril.

Bethany and Carver were home for once and Fenris was once again dealing with the Elves in the Alienage. Hawke sometimes wondered if the elf was planning a coup, but _that_ joke was rather in bad taste and never left his mouth. Anders had already tried that and Hawke was sure Fenris at least would have the decency to tell him about an Elven revolt.

“I know.” Hawke said, shrugging. He could be angry but he had needed the money not only had he been paying the debt by himself this time around, but the money for his shop had to come from somewhere. He had only taken the bare minimum from Bethany and Carver when things were becoming _too much_. (Fenris was rather _pointed_ about when Hawke was starting to crack at the edges and Bethany had, several times, put money in the shop’s deposit whenever Hawke wasn’t paying attention)

Aveline sighed but didn’t push it. “I was thinking, the Guard has a spot open, but they’ll probably fill it quickly...” She frowned.

Hawke glanced at her, “It could do you some good. I know how much our previous occupation bothered you.”

With a snort Aveline rolled her eyes, “I realized we had to have some income, and honestly after seeing what this city is like I almost want to pick up a few shifts at your hovel. But I’m no healer.” She crossed her arms and paused at the entrance to the Lowtown Markets, “Being a guard though...I could help this City, like you.”

A flush ran up across Hawke’s neck, “I am not that noble, Aveline. We needed income--”

“Please, as if you couldn’t have stayed with Athenril or probably made your own _guild_.” Aveline pointed a finger at him, “Don’t lie, whenever I’m around or Bethany talks about your shop I _know_ you cut costs. I also know that because you’ve asked Bethany and Carver for money.” She continued under her breath; _“If you asked me I would have helped_.”

Now there _was_ a fierce blush across Hawke’s cheeks and he rubbed a knuckle against his cheek hoping to soothe the heat, “We really need to stop having these moments.” He ignored her glare and took a step closer when a few dwarfs passed them by, “I think you would be _great_ at being a guard. You want to help, that is something worthy of the job in my opinion.”

Aveline took two steps back and leaned against a nearby building’s wall. She was quiet, her fingers tapping against her armored arms, “You are not wrong.” She looked up at him and glared again, “Don’t expect me to ignore that you avoided admitting you were helping people. It’s like we didn’t have a conversation about taking on the world before.”

“I am stubborn, it’s part of the Hawke genes.” Hawke said cheerfully, and then clasped a hand against Aveline’s arm, “You should tell me how it goes. I doubt you’ll fail but if the Maker has any sense you’ll be a guard in no time. If not, I’ll give you a crash course in healing.”

Smiling, Aveline nodded, “Maybe if I spend more time with you I can drill it into your head that you’re not alone. That you help and should voice it with pride.”

Heat returned to Hawke’s face and he glowered sullenly at Aveline, “Not going to let this go, are you?”

“No-p-e.” Aveline popped the _p_ and with an amused glance at Hawke started down the steps into the market. Already trailing towards the swords and shields on display.

Hawke sighed but followed her. “I just do what I must.” He muttered not expecting her to hear.

Aveline huffed and replied, “World not on your shoulders.”

 

Aveline getting the guard position wasn’t a surprise.

Hawke had known that Aveline was good at her job. She had been so good that she had multiple Nobles vying for her attention. Even some cities offering her Captain positions.

What _was_ a surprise was Carver joining the guard.

“I thought there was only one position.” Hawke raised his brows at the two.

They had come into the shop with bright faces a week after Aveline’s decision. Both had come home later and later until two days ago where they had mentioned a _training exercise_ and hadn’t returned until today.

“Yes well...” Carver trailed off and coughed. He rubbed his cheek smearing more dirt and what looked like dried blood across it.

Aveline rolled her eyes but a flush ran across her nose, “I may...we may have uncovered some things about the Captain of the Guard. At first I didn’t really want to cause waves before we were hired but then Carver pointed out that we couldn’t _both_ have a job there.”

“So, both of you just decided to root out the corruption in the guard.” Hawke said with a sigh, he glanced at Fenris who raised his brow as if to say _what did you think would happen_. Perhaps, he _should_ have expected it.

None of them could get out of trouble last time so Hawke wasn’t sure why he had thought he could stop them from doing it if he got a simple healers job.

“I wouldn’t say we rooted out all the corruption.” Aveline said. She scratched at her nose and for once was refusing to meet Hawke’s eye.

Carver was, brows furrowed and still meeting Hawke’s eyes, but he had a flush across his cheeks and his arms crossed. (Hawke would say it was cute if he didn’t want a sword swinging his way) “All we did was make positions for us. We can’t expect you to handle everything, Brother.”

“Yes, but I didn’t expect you to _become Captain_.” Hawke pointedly looked at Aveline, who’s flush grew and her scratching grew fiercer until her nose was crimson, “Stop that you’ll just have a bloody nose and then what will your minions think of you.”

“Hawke they are not minions.” Aveline paused in her scratching though to scowl at Hawke, “I tried to refuse but the Viscount wouldn’t hear of it. Something about appearances and ‘keeping us presentable’.” She said the last part dryly.

“He was always a man about presentation rather than actual substance.” Fenris shook his head. “Congratulations Aveline. You get to babysit the entire Kirkwall population.”

“As always, you say the nicest things to me, Fenris.” Aveline said. She turned back to Hawke and for a moment the blush returned, “I am sorry but I have new quarters in Hightown, apparently the Captain can’t live in Lowtown. Not allowed he said.” Her eyes narrowed.

Hawke snorted and waved a hand. “In a few months we should have new lodgings.” Because he _really_ didn’t want to stay at Gamlen’s any longer. He glanced at Fenris, and he _really_ wanted to have regular cuddling, kissing, and sex again.

“Bethany and I were discussing that.” Carver took a step forward and grabbed a pouch from his belt. “You haven’t been using our pay for rent so we decided you were being an idiot like usual,” He ignored the _look_ that Hawke threw his way, “So we pooled together our earnings and we got a house—it’s nothing fancy but it’s a little better than Gamlen’s run down place. I won’t be there but Bethany and you...” He glared at Fenris. “And you.”

“Thank you for that consideration.” Fenris drawled, leaning on the counter. “But I--”

“You are not staying in that creepy place if we have a house now.” Hawke said quickly, if he could burn it down without getting caught he would.

Aveline nodded, “Good then it’s settled I have a house--”

“Mansion, the Captain’s house is a _Mansion_ ,” Carver said with little bitterness, “We get to sleep in the barracks.”

Aveline huffed, an exasperated air to her, “I _told_ him I did not want it but the instant I talked about sleeping in the Barracks with my men the Viscount grew quite agitated.” She shook her head and then glanced at Carver, “You know I would give you room and board if it didn’t show favoritism.”

Clearly, Carver didn’t if the surprise on his face was anything to go by, “I...” He trailed off and his eyes narrowed, his stance widening and defensive.

“If the barracks become too much you can come to the house. It’s not like they can say anything if you don’t go sleep there every day.” Hawke said because he really didn’t want to deal with another fight in his shop. The amount of times it had happened had been a _lot_ less then _before_ but it still occurred enough between them. He wasn’t really surprised they all had different personalities and Hawke hadn’t given them seven years to slowly get used to eachother. Instead, all of them had been shoved together for months, and very few breaks inbetween.

Carver closed his mouth and his stare lingered across Hawke’s face. He hesitated before dropping the defensive stance, “Alright, Brother.” He nodded.

Aveline sighed in relief and tilted her head at Hawke in thanks, “I should get back, I just wanted to make you aware of the changes…” She shifted from one foot to the next, “You are always welcome to visit when you have time...” She looked uncertain and ready to takes steps to leave the shop.

“Gladly. You’ll have to accept sleepovers of course. And awkward kissing in the dining room.” Hawke said and smirked when Fenris glared at him.

Aveline rolled her eyes but the tension flowed out of her shoulders, “I’ll make a note not to be in the dining room when you two are together.”

“So, always then?” Carver said with a snort. He didn’t laugh for long though, Hawke was adept by now at catching his party members when they were injured and while Carver was distracted his glowing spirit-healing hands were on Carvers chest, healing cuts and bruises.

Aveline left before Hawke could heal her too. He figured he would try again later, just to make sure she wasn’t hiding any injuries.

 

Hawke packed his few belongings that weren’t at the shop once he returned home. (Most of them being healing potions and several threadbare clothes that were close to falling apart)

Bethany was kind enough to take him to their new home. She had been leaving the shop on different days and Hawke wasn’t quite sure what she was doing. He figured as long as she didn’t attract Templar attention it was alright. (Though it hadn’t stopped him from tailing her with Fenris twice, just to make sure she was safe)

The House was near another entrance to Hightown. Just past the steps and around a cracking stone wall and while it wasn’t _old_ , Hawke realized why it had been available, and cheap enough for his siblings to buy, quickly enough. Unlike the majority of Hightown Houses, Manors, and Shops this little house had creaky steps and a part of the roof in one of the bedrooms was broken inward. Two of the back windows were covered in vines, several cracks in the glass, and the small strip of land meant as a garden was covered in thick greenery—most Hawke suspected were weeds.

Bethany stammered apologies and quick assurances that a repairman would be in here by the end of the week.

“It’s fine, thank you, Bethany.” Hawke said, and he meant it. Neither of his siblings had ever done this much for him and he felt so grateful. He held it in though. Bad enough that he was slowly becoming the groups counselor; he really didn’t want to start crying at them for being _nice_.

With a quick hug Bethany slipped into her own bedroom and Hawke took the Master bedroom, upstairs, and started unpacking. There was already a bed and Hawke suspected that Carver and Bethany had more than just _bought_ the house. The sheets looked pristine and smelled of lilac.

Once everything was put away in a cramped dresser (not that Hawke had much of anything really) and there were silencing and protection runes carved across each wall, Hawke went to track down Fenris. Someone had to help him have sex on his new bed and the new runes would let them both enjoy the act without worries.

 

“You want to fuck me on your new bed? Really, that was your goal of bringing me here?” Fenris asked, but even with all that sarcasm packed into it he still stripped. He turned and dropped onto the bed, spreading his legs. His cock was already growing, foreskin slowly pulling back from his glans, and a wicked smirk across his face. “Well?”

“Gods be damned, Fenris, look at you.” Hawke was quick to pull his own clothes off, almost tearing his smalls off.

Fenris chuckled, a pleased look in his eyes, “So desperate, Hawke.”

“Only for you.” Hawke said, crawling up the bed, and then kissing Fenris before he could say anything more.

Their kisses were slow, easy, and their bodies slid together just as effortlessly. Fenris always leaked precum quickly and it was no different in this old-body. His precum wetting both of their cocks and their thrusts growing quicker. Muscular legs wrapped around Hawke’s waist bringing their bodies closer. Hawke loved those legs around his hips, and each thrust brought their pecs close together.

“Fenris. I hate to disappoint, but I won’t last long.” Hawke gasped, his cock twitched and every time they pressed together pleasure made their hips stutter and stop.

“Then it is a good thing that I am also at the pinnacle.” Fenris said, his smile was pure charm and for a man who was more lithe and less gargantuan-muscle he seemed to take over the rhythm of their thrusts. Until they were both cumming against eachother. Cocks covered in their seed and bellies smeared.

“I love when you’re marked by me.” Hawke said, grinding down just to feel Fenris gasp against his lips and their cum spread across their bellies.

“Hmm, possessive bastard.” Fenris agreed, but he was just as guilty, his fingers rubbing _his_ cum up across Hawke’s chest and around his nipples. “You should leave it on.”

“Only if you do too.” Hawke’s dick was oversensitive and he was sure Fenris’ was too but he couldn’t help the slow rocking of his hips. Their soft cocks rubbing against eachother and making them both shiver.

Fenris hummed, “As if I would wash you off.” He said and tugged on Hawke’s cum-slick nipple and smirked up at Hawke’s groaning.

 

Unfortunately they actually had more to do outside of just sex, which if Hawke had his way would be their entire schedule for the day (if not the entire week). Eventually, after cuddling, pressed close to eachother for hours, (Their legs entwined and Fenris laving and mouthing at Hawke’s right pec and licking up their mixed seed off his pecs, and Hawke enjoying trailing kisses down Fenris’ neck) Hawke got up and Fenris followed a moment later. Fenris had a large swath of beard burn across his neck and Hawke could already feel Fenris’ marks across his pec where slow throbbing bruises were forming.

Before those thoughts could make Hawke push Fenris back onto the bed he thought of what they needed to do. There was time now to go to the Mountains. Flemeth had waited a year last time but this time she knew what he was and she probably wouldn’t be as patient. He grabbed Flemeth’s necklace from a box inside of his drawer before the pair headed down the steps to the first floor.

The sight of Flemeth’s necklace had made Fenris frown but he took it with rather good grace, only a muttered, “I still do not trust that witch.”

Hawke chuckled and closed the front door behind them, “She’s interesting.”

That got him a glare that just made his laughter and amusement grow.

“Don’t be jealous, you’re still my favorite.” Hawke said.

They walked together and it wasn’t until they reached the stairs leading out of Kirkwall that Fenris said, “I am not jealous. Jealous of that Templar you tried to seduce last time? Yes. Jealous of a woman that is at least five times your age, not at all. I am just concerned.”

Hawke paused at the edge of the gates and glanced back at Fenris.

Fenris did actually look concerned. There was a furrow between his brows, and that little frown that wasn’t _aggressive,_ at all. Most of Fenris’ expressions before they had truly learned eachother had looked aggressive or confrontational.

“Well...” Hawke stepped closer. He leaned his forehead against Fenris’, “I have you to guard my back, don’t I?”

Fenris nod was a jerk of his head, he looked slightly uncomfortable with the public closeness. The conversation topic was no doubt causing just as much discomfort. But he didn’t pull away, it was intimate and Hawke didn’t want to push because this was for _them_ , but he didn’t want to let this go. Didn’t want Fenris to think Hawke wasn’t _listening_.

“I have yours too.” Hawke grabbed Fenris’ hand and pressed their fingers to the marks still on his chest under his cloth armor, “You know that.”

Fenris nodded again and the both of them were the only ones to know that he pressed a little harder against the marks. He let off when Hawke gasped and then pulled back completely. “I will always follow you, Hawke. As long as you’re not foolish.”

Once Hawke caught his breath, he glared halfheartedly at Fenris. He was half hard in public and the elf looked _smug_ , “But you know I’m always foolish.” It was worth saying just for the exasperated sigh Fenris gave.

“This is why I don’t try to have _moments_ with you, Hawke. You ruin them all.” Fenris said, and still he took Hawke’s hand and led them out of Kirkwall.

Hawke followed willingly and squeezed Fenris’ hand, a small amused smile on his face. He took note of the, brief, fond look crossing Fenris’ face before the elf stopped holding his hand.

Their expressions of affection were always short and quick in public, and Hawke wouldn’t be surprised if the entire last five minutes had filled up a months quota. Yet, he couldn’t mind, not when he could still see the edges of that warm expression across Fenris’ face. He could also still feel the possessive marks across his chest and see the beard burn and darkening skin against Fenris’ throat.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I haven't touched this fic in a while, and I really do want to continue with it. I just haven't figured out how to segway? Segue? between Merrill and Flemeth to the next part of the story.

Night fell on the way up the mountain path to the Elves Camp. By then the light of stars and Hawke’s staff was all that kept them from the dark. Which wasn’t enough to keep the more predatory animals at bay.

Fenris’ blade sliced through another Spider’s leg. “There are many of them.” He growled and his skin glowed with blue light before he slips a hand into their head, cutting through their nervous system with a slice of blue light.

The spider fell with twitching legs, and high pitched hiss that came from their bodies hairs moving in a hurried pace.

Hawke spun his blade tipped staff and sent a wave of fire over a Spider trying to bypass him to get at Fenris’ back. Flames ate at it’s body until it stopped moving all together. Red flickering within it’s exoskeleton.

“Wasn’t that spell meant to be a _Cone of Ice_?” Fenris asked, again his lyrium scars flared and when two fangs descended on him he slid right through them as if he wasn’t there at all. His right arm’s glow dimmed and his sword regained it’s sharp definition inside of the Spider’s body.

“I changed it.” Hawke said with a grin. It had taken _weeks_ for him to figure out how to change the element in the spell. Of course it had taken weeks because he didn’t have time for spell experimentation, not like he used too, but it was still an accomplishment he was proud of.

Fenris snort was more a heavy breath of air, and he dodged a giant scorpion that tried to sink it’s claws into him and slammed the pommel of his Greatsword into a nearby eight foot behemoth of a snake. Another spider tried for him and Fenris dodged before his body lit up brighter than before. Energy burst forth from his body and the beasts broke under the assault bright blue light cleaving and cutting into their bodies.

On the other end of the clearing Hawke cut into another snake head letting the blade of his staff reach deep before spinning the staff and snake into a bludgeon that slammed into another spider. “There really are quite a lot of them here.” Hawke huffed, and barely dodged another scorpion. He raised his hand with a surge of mana lighting it bright in the dark night and let it fall back down; a large fist of stone forming over the Scorpion and rushed to the ground, crushing the beast into the dirt.

Another screech behind them made both spin towards the sound.

The beast had a narrow head similar to a snake, more legs than a spider or a scorpion combined, and a stinger that gleamed green. It’s body looked soft and hard in places as if it wasn’t quite a scorpion, snake, or spider but a mixture of different creatures. Screeching it ran towards them.

Hawke called up his mana and raised his hand sending a bolt of lightning across it’s body.

Stumbling to a stop, a high hiss sound left it’s mouth, and then the tail rose up across it’s body. A volley of venom shot out towards them.

“Move.” Fenris growled, dodging the projectiles with grace that only Isabella had been able to beat.

Hawke was good, but he wasn’t as fast or as graceful as his old thief friend or his boyfriend. The venom ate away at his armor and burned through the skin across his side. “Fuck!” He stumbled but pushed through the pain and kept moving. He dodged the next burst and the next, brought up an _Arcane Shield_ , the warm white glow slipping over his skin, like he _should_ have done earlier, but there were more important things then berating himself.

Fenris was close but the Chimera was starting to move again.

With more force then necessary Hawke slammed his staff into the ground and concentrated on the dead around them; feeling the connection to the fade twist and turn to rotting and decay. A _Miasma_ filled the clearing passing Fenris and sapping at the Chimera’s strength.

Muscles surging, Fenris swung on his heel, and his greatsword turned into a blur of white, _Whirlwind_ cutting into the Scorpion from head to abdomen. Blood splattered across his form and several pieces of soft flesh reached Hawke’s face.

Hawke grimaced in disgust. Once the danger had passed the burning agony in his side came to the forefront of his mind. He carefully tugged the armor away from the burnt skin and opened his connection to the fade and called out to a spirits of wisdom and faith.

A healing aura of light blue burst from his body and the _Miasma_ disappeared in wisps of dark shadow. Slowly the pain ebbed away and the wound started stitching itself up without Hawke having to cast a heal spell. He looked up at the sound of pebbles on the ground and winced.

Fenris’ glare could set an enemy (or lover) on fire, “I said dodge, Hawke.”

“I did.” Hawke grumbled, and in an attempt to distract the elf he started checking Fenris over.

Acid had destroyed some of his shoulder guard but Fenris’ _Lyrium Ghost_ was good at minimizing damage. He had a light burn and several scratches and gashes that were already healing under the _Aura_.

Fenris endured the prods and touches with patience but his glare didn’t waver. Not until Hawke was done, and he stopped Hawke and pulled him into a hug, “You will be the death of me.”

“It was a bit of acid. Not even a demon. Or a mad woman controlled by Lyrium.” Hawke said with humor. He felt the low rumbling growl Fenris let out against his shoulder and sighed, “I am alright, Fenris. Where is this coming from?”

Silence filled the clearing, and Fenris tightened his hold on Hawke, “The night we cast the spell. Maker-damned Fade ripped us apart. I spent the first day in a haze. Blood on my hands from when I saw Danarius and ripped him apart. I almost--” A tight swallowing sound, before Fenris continues, breath harsh, “I almost let him whip me again. I was so distraught. Hawke you were gone and I was once again back in that hell hole.”

Hawke squeezed his arms around Fenris. He kissed Fenris’ cheek, up to his forehead, and listened to the hitched sobs against his shoulder. “I am so sorry, Fenris.” That didn’t feel quite enough, how had Hawke just assumed going back would be alright?

Danarius was, possibly would always be, a sore and horrifying subject. A hurt that could perhaps eventually heal after many years, but it _had_ been healing, slowly.

“Fenris I am right here. I...” Hawke wanted Fenris not to hurt, _was_ sorry that they had brought so many dark memories back into Fenris’ life. He didn’t know quite what to say but, it was _Fenris_ , and though it made Hawke burn with shame Fenris was his everything, “If I had known...I would never have gone back.”

A heavy hitching breath, and Fenris laughed a hoarse horrible sound, “Would I truly be more important than your family? I could not, and _would not_ take this from you. I have not seen you smile this much since before Carver was taken away from you. By his own machinations perhaps, but still...” He cleared his throat. “It hurt, but having you these past few months has soothed me. M-marking you again...” He trailed off and then continued, sharply as if embarrassed at mentioning their sex life, “I—it was stupid. Preposterous. A breakdown from having you barely injured.”

“Trauma effects us all in different ways.” Hawke recited automatically, but truthfully. They, all of them, had dealt with their relentless battles and strife in different ways. Some good and some bad.

“I know exactly who taught you that tidbit.” Fenris’ said dryly but at least he didn’t sound angry. Or upset. Well, not quite. His voice was still throaty and there was an audible hitch every few breaths.

“I am sorry.” Hawke said. He wondered how many times he had said it and would say it. At least this time around it had been far less. The reprieve was a gift, honestly, he couldn’t handle having to apologize to everyone _again_ and _again_. “If I could do more--”

“Hawke,” Fenris pulled back and stared at him. His eyes were red rimmed and even that was fading because the _Aura_ was still up, but it made Hawke’s chest ache, “Do not start. I spoke of it...” He sighed harshly, “I spoke as...your partner. Your lover. Trust, correct? It is...important. You needed to know why I overreacted.”

“It wasn’t an overreaction.” Hawke lightly tapped Fenris’ chest with the back of his hand. “There was no over-reaction. You have trauma. It hurt. _I hurt you_ -” Before Fenris could finish opening his mouth Hawke continued, “Even if it was unintentional _I_ wanted you to come. I--”

“You do not control me!” Fenris yelled, loud enough to echo across the peeks and valleys. “I came because I love you. You idiot.” He palmed hard at Hawke’s chest, making the man take a step back from the force, “I would have endured weeks of Danarius’ company just for the past few months we’ve had together. With our family.”

There was little Hawke could say to that. He could hardly keep the tears at bay. His eyes stung and he nodded.

Fenris watched him before a high flush crossed his cheeks. “Then we are settled?”

“Oh, Fenris,” Hawke said, choked and the words coming out garbled, “I am never letting you forget that you said we are family.”

“Idiot.” Fenris muttered, but there was a small uptick to his lips and he pulled Hawke close again.

Hawke moved into his space eagerly. His nose pressed against Fenris’ throat and mouthing at the marks that were faded thanks to his _Aura_. It was much harder to tighten his fade connection with how he currently felt but slowly the blue glow faded and dispersed. He breathed in Fenris’ scent and enjoyed the warmth. Tried to get a hold on how much he loved the damn elf. How to accept that Fenris had chosen, and it wasn’t _his call_ even if part of the guilt was still there. Would probably always be there.

“I will keep repeating it until you learn, Hawke.” Fenris muttered against his ear. “I am yours willingly like you are mine. I care for you too much for you to be ripped away from me. Even if there was a foul man to greet me back into this world, I would do it again for you.”

Hawke nodded and kissed Fenris’ jaw. “I will always be here for you, Fenris. You can’t get rid of me.” He huffed a choked laugh.

“Good.” Fenris said, and his grip tightened around Hawke’s shoulders. “I would expect nothing less from the man I gave everything for.”

Tears, hot and burning, trailed down Hawke’s cheeks and he nodded. Throat tight again.

 

 

Several Elves greeted their eyes when they finally pulled away from eachother. Both had only truly heard them coming because they had stopped speaking for several minutes. Their indecision on where to go next had stalled them in place. Hawke was glad the Dalish had shown up after their big talk. Neither of them would have enjoyed anyone listening in on that.

In the group of four was a familiar head of black hair and vibrant green ink across their face. Merrill stood in front of the lot looking all the world eagerly at them and especially at Hawke. “Oh, you’re a mage. A human one.” She said and ignored the pointed shifting of arrows and bows from her three...escorts? Brethren? Switching their focus from Fenris to Hawke.

A put upon sigh from Fenris and a low murmured, “It’s like she was never gone.”

Hawke bit back his amusement, it was small after all the conversations tonight, but still Merrill had always been fun to be around. Her unending fascination with things and her questions were a delight. “I am, a human mage.”

Smile widening, Merrill took a step forward and opened her arms as if to greet them before an arm pressed against her waist.

“Merrill you can not trust these Shem.” The Scout said, still holding Merrill in place, a disgusted look pointed at Hawke and then focused on Fenris.

“This again,” Fenris muttered, displeasure filling his tone. He glanced at Hawke with a raised brow.

“Well I am a Shem,” Hawke shrugged, he understood why the term was there, and he found it amusing when the Elves looked baffled at the acceptance.

Merrill was the only one of the Dalish group to look amused if utterly bashful in her amusement. “I suppose you are that, not to mean that there’s anything wrong with being a Shem. Oh but it does have a rather nasty connotation to it, doesn’t it?” She blushed and ducked her head, “Oh, I have made a right mess of our Clan’s first meeting with a human mage. I apologize, let’s start from the beginning? Hello, I am Merrill, these are my guards.” She waved at the trio surrounding her and she opened her mouth just as soon as it had closed, “Oh their names are--”

“Peace Merrill, the Shem do not need our names.” The femme archer to Merrill’s right said. Their tone frosty.

“I suppose we do not since we are not interested in you.” Fenris agreed, imitating the archer’s tone. “We have a message for the Keeper of your Clan.” He continued and nodded at Merrill (Hawke tried to hide his amusement at the way Fenris’ expression thawed just a little for Merrill, even if they hadn’t gotten on the best of terms because of her blood magic and her...eccentricities, Fenris hadn’t been able to begrudge her friendship), “Or the Keeper’s Apprentice.”

“Oh, that’s me!” Merrill either ignored or remained oblivious to her guards exasperated expressions, “Yes, how did you know I was a mage?”

“The staff was a bit of a hint.” Hawke said with laughter tinging his voice.

“Right! Right my staff,” Merrill plucked it off her back and with a deft skill, that spoke from experience, agilely ducked under the scout’s arm blocking her path and ran up to Hawke, “Do you suppose you could help me make one like yours? That blade looks...useful.”

 _She really was bad at lies even lies of omission,_ Hawke thought with a wistful sort of delight.

Fenris looked at him pointedly as if to say, _You are not giving her a blade to use for blood magic_.

Which, from past experiences, Merrill _had_ been very keen on blood magic. Not that Hawke had dissuaded her much, or at all. He still remembered how good she was at it, and it wasn’t as if she had ever had trouble with demons.

Merrill chose that moment to widen her eyes just slightly.

Hawke sighed, Merrill was practically a little sister and he had always been weak to her unintentional pout. He held out a hand, “Let me see your staff.”

“Thank you...um...” Merrill tilted her head, “What is your name?”

“Fenris,” Fenris said while Hawke examined the staff, “This is my...partner, Hawke. He is an accomplished mage.” There was a tinge of pride and boastfulness in his voice.

“Hawke, that’s a nice name, like a bird. I mean of course you know that it is the word for a bird...” Merrill started muttering and looked as red as an apple.

Hawke laughed under his breath, he really tried to hold it in, but she was just the same even several months earlier (and possibly before the Clan had changed their views of her). The staff in his hands was ironbark, something Hawke was wary to work with since he wasn’t a Dalish Elf. But other than that it was strong and durable, no doubt would last longer than the staff of wood that Hawke currently had (it already had small fractures in the middle from repetitive spars with Fenris). “I could get you a blade for this,” Was ironbark not similar to steel? “Steel to match the strength of the Ironbark, but your clansman would have to bind it. I do not know how to craft with the wood.”

“Oh, thank you!” Merrill said and arms wrapped around Hawke’s biceps and half his chest. “Thank you!”

Hawke laughed and patted her awkwardly on the head that barely reached his shoulder, “Of course.” _anything for my sister_ , He barely kept behind his teeth. No need to alienate Merrill. She accepted oddness of their lives but that would be weird even to her, Hawke thought.

Afterwards, Merrill, against the others wishes, led them to the Dalish encampment. Unlike before the encampment was much farther in the mountains and it took them a day to reach them; and a short three hours sleep for Hawke and Fenris (neither were naive enough to not have one of them awake while the other slept). It left Hawke feeling grumpy and Fenris quieter, and more likely to glare at the Dalish that weren’t Merrill.

Even though the Dalish have apparently moved, or perhaps had always been this distance until a full year later, the Keeper welcomes them solemnly. “I did not expect you for a little longer, but Asha'bellanar will be glad you have come early.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for reading and the comments, I am glad other people are enjoying my self indulgent DA2 TT fic <3

**Author's Note:**

> Please Review/Kudos if you liked it <3


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